


Christmas Evening, 1969

by HolmesianDeduction



Series: 25 Days of Holiday Fic 2k12 [22]
Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011), Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - All Media Types, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - John Le Carré
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Christmas, Domestic, Holidays, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesianDeduction/pseuds/HolmesianDeduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[25 Days of Holiday Fic: Day 25 - Christmas Music/Movies]</p><p>(A companion to these four pieces: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/588560">1</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/589601">2</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/591613">3</a>, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/596589">4</a>)</p><p>A Christmas evening with Jim Prideaux and Bill Haydon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Evening, 1969

              _Click_.

             The soft click of the needle reaching the end of the record drew Jim Prideaux’s eyes from his book to where the record continued spinning soundlessly on the turntable.  Setting it down, he started to get up, but was stopped by an unexpected weight pressed against the side of his ribcage.  Allowing himself to settle back against the sofa, Jim carded his fingers through Bill’s hair.  “Record’s off.”

             Bill didn’t respond, but instead burrowed his face against Jim’s stomach, his body twisting under his robe in a feline stretch, one hand kneading his thigh.  Shaking his head, Jim stifled a smile.  “I should go turn the table off.”

             Making a small, stubborn noise in his throat, Bill refused to move, instead unfolding and draping himself out across Jim’s legs, his dressing gown sliding up one of his thighs, his eyes flickering open to watch the other man’s reaction.  “Bill,” Jim’s voice was only slightly chiding, but he knew all too well that even that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “the record’s going to get scratched.”

             Bill only arched an eyebrow and raised himself up slightly, steadfastly ignoring the slight twinge at the corner of Jim’s mouth as Bill’s elbow dug into his thigh.  “Was never that fond of it anyway.”

             “Well I _am_.”  There was a finality in Jim’s voice that Bill finally yielded to, and his mouth twisting into a sulk, he rose to his feet, stretching his legs before crossing the room and switching the turntable off.

             After making a dramatic show of replacing the record in its envelope, he returned to the sofa, draping himself over the cushions, his head resting on Jim’s thigh.  Dipping a hand into the pocket of his dressing gown, he fished out a slim, enamelled cigarette case.  “Got a light?”

             Striking a match from his shirt pocket, Jim lit the cigarette almost as soon as it touched Bill’s lips, putting out the match with his fingers and setting it in the ashtray Bill had left on the floor before taking his book back up again.  “Happy now?”

             “Mmn.”  Then: “Are you?”

             Reaching down, Jim took the cigarette from Bill’s lips and lifted it to his own, taking a thoughtful drag before returning it.  “Yes.”  Then, closing his book, “Though I’d prefer not to have to return to work the day after Christmas.”

             Flashing one of his trademark grins, Bill laughed.  “Suppose it wouldn’t do for both of us to play truant either.”

             “Probably not, no.”

             They fell silent again, the only sound in the flat the dry sound of turning pages as Jim returned once more to his reading, and the distant sound of music playing from another flat.  By the time he set it aside for the night, Bill had dozed off, his body draped over Jim’s legs, a still smouldering cigarette in the ashtray.  Reluctant to wake him again, Jim reached over and clicked off the lamp, stretching his legs just enough to gain some semblance of comfort as he prepared for a long night on the sofa.


End file.
